


The Man Upstairs

by parttimefemmefatale (writingramblr)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Episode AU-s05e11- The Lodger, Episode: s05e11 The Lodger, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Happy Ending, crazy inventors and madcap heiresses, episode inspired story, non horrory episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 02:08:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1533722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/parttimefemmefatale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose Tyler needs a new place to live, and Craig Owens has a spare room to let. The inevitable occurs, and Rose finds herself falling in love with the flat.</p><p>However, there's a mysterious fourth tenant, the man upstairs. From the way Craig and Sophie-the other lodger- speak, one would think he was almost dangerous.</p><p>One way or another, Rose is going to meet her other neighbor...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this came about, as most ideas do, in the middle of a late night, and me wanting to rewrite the episode, but make it less scary, and throw rose into the mix. of course, the horror part of the episode turned out to not be so scary after all, but since my recent experience with returning nightmares, i prefer things on the fluff side of the spectrum.  
> I hope you enjoy this story.

Rose Tyler wasn’t typically the sort of girl who read an actual newspaper. Her lifestyle was often much too busy for that. She was lucky if she got the chance to watch ten minutes of the nightly news. But when she was standing in line at her favorite coffee shop, and happened to see a copy of the small town daily sitting on an abandoned table, she made the decision to sit there once she had retrieved her drink. She normally avoided the big name papers, they gave her too much of a headache.

Picking that table turned out to be the best choice she’d ever made. She had quickly flipped past the local weather and the police report, when she had reached the want ads.

She smiled at the automobile blurbs, and almost felt bad for the pets who’s owners where trying to get rid of them. When she saw the advert for a lodger, with a decent sized room to rent, she nearly dropped her coffee.

Jackie, her mum, had recently been saying she needed to look for her own place, again. Jackie had told Rose, ‘She was nearly twenty-seven, and it was high time she spent some of her savings, and got back out there.’ She wasn’t about to argue, but she was so extraordinarily picky, she hadn’t found a place yet.

Rose had been stockpiling money for nearly the last year, planning originally to splurge on a mortgage payment with her then fiancé James Stone, so that they could leave behind their cramped apartment, but unfortunately things hadn’t turned out the way she’d wanted. James had broken their engagement only a month after Rose had begun talking about their wedding, and forced her to move back in with her mum for a brief period.

It seemed, no matter how much time she’d devoted to him, and their relationship, he never stopped thinking she was married to her work. Therefore, he felt justified when she caught him with another woman, _in their bed._

Rose loved her mother, god knew it, but Jackie drove her nearly bats. For that reason, she hadn’t minded being given a heavy workload, it kept her busy and out of the house.

But now it was nearly summer, and work was slowing down. Rose worked for a large investment bank, and though she was the boss of merely a dozen people, she felt like a protective mother hen oftentimes. She hated leaving the office before them, and was always first in the next day. She worked hard to avoid her mother, but some days she wondered if she did it for more than that.

Was she avoiding her own dreams and wishes?

She knew she could only get away with working such long hours because she was so young. At least, that’s what Jackie told her.

Rose had first grimaced at the thought of trading her pink childhood bedroom for another person’s guest bedroom. Not that she was still that fond of pink. But as she had read on, the flat described in the advert sounded positively delightful. Rather like a shared flat at a university. Although it meant sharing common areas like living rooms and a kitchen with other people, the small community and distance from the city made the complex very attractive.

She knew she would have to see the place for herself, before making any final decisions, so she quickly texted her assistant to clear her schedule for the next day.

Her coffee break was almost up, and it would take the last five minutes of it to return to her office.

Sometimes working downtown was a drag.


	2. The Ad

Craig Owens hadn’t expected such a quick response to the advert wanting for a lodger, but he was quite happy despite the fact said response seemed overly cautious.

It was a young woman, and she had spoken to Sophie over the phone. He had been ready to answer it, but just as it rung, he’d been elbow deep in lunch dishes, so Sophie had grabbed it.

She’d given him a double thumbs up as he listened to the one sided conversation, and once the phone had been hung up, Sophie had been unable to stop talking.

“Just think Craig, I’ll finally have someone else to talk to! A girl best of all.”

She was only teasing, for Craig knew she came to see him to do more than gossip about potential flat mates. She liked to hang out in the kitchen and bum off the strong WI-fi.

Craig managed a smile,

“Oh yeah sure. I hope you don’t scare her off though. When will she be coming round?”

Sophie shrugged,

“She said she wants to look around first. So she said sometime tomorrow afternoon. Will the Doctor be in?”

Craig glanced up at the ceiling, and they both winced as they heard a loud crashing noise, followed by the flickering of the lights.

“I hope not. You’re nowhere near as scary as he is.”

***

Rose almost sighed with relief when she pulled up to the small apartment complex. It looked more like a bed and breakfast than the last place she’d lived. Dark red bricks all around a shiny red front door; just like it had in the picture in the newspaper.

“Perfect” She thought to herself. Just the thing she needed to truly start over.

She parked in the street up a ways and so she wasn’t blocking the drive way, just in front of a beat up navy VW bus. She gave it a long look as she walked by, and smiled to herself. She wasn’t a car enthusiast, but someone who had something that old, was certain to be an interesting character.

As she paused in front of the front door, she was unsure whether she should knock, or ring the small yellow doorbell.

She was saved from making either choice by the door swinging open to reveal a cheerful looking brown haired woman,

“Hi there! You must be Rose. We spoke on the phone. I’m Sophie, and I’ll be your next door neighbor, potentially.”

Rose smiled nervously,

“Ah yes. Hello. It’s nice to have a face to put with a name.”

She didn’t bother mentioning the flat wasn’t a sure thing, but she suddenly couldn’t find any real reasons not to take it.

“Will you be giving me the grand tour?”

Rose asked innocently, though she knew she’d seen a specific name on the advert.

Sophie shook her head, before laughing softly,

“No I’m afraid that duty falls to my dear friend Craig, he owns the place. He’s our landlord.”

Rose didn’t correct her again, and she couldn’t help but notice the way Sophie had said the words ‘dear friend.’

Sophie led her into the kitchen, where a sandy haired stout man sat, fiddling with something that looked like a broken alarm clock.

“Craig? This is Rose Tyler, she called about the room across the hall?”

He looked up just in time to see Rose extend her hand with a grin,

“Hello, it seems I’m to be your new lodger.”

The man, Craig, beamed at her. He set down the damaged clock and took her hand, shaking it firmly,

“Wonderful! Best news I’ve heard all week. Did you like it?”

Rose coughed, and Sophie looked a bit sheepish,

“She hasn’t actually seen the room yet, I told her you would show it.”

Craig’s eyebrows shot up past his ragged bangs,

“Really? You want it but you don’t even know what it looks like?”

Rose shrugged,

“What can I say? I like my neighbors already. You’ve sold me.”

Rose noticed the two exchange a glance, and she felt her stomach drop to around her ankles. Was there something they weren’t telling her? Had the last tenant been murdered while he slept? Had _they_ murdered him? Or had it been a _her_?

She coughed nervously again, and they both looked at her,

“Ah well we’re actually not you’re only neighbors. We’ve a third flat upstairs that we’re renting.”

Rose smiled to herself, amused to hear Sophie including herself along with Craig, and she could swear she saw his face light up at the words.

“Oh yeah? Anyone I should worry about?”

Craig laughed, but it sounded falsely cheery,

“Naw. It’s just Mister Smith. Or as we call him, the Doctor.” Craig looked forlornly at the broken clock beside him, and Sophie tsked quietly to herself.

Rose was suddenly curious,

“A doctor in the building? And living upstairs? That’s quite handy.”

Sophie shook her head as Craig rushed to explain,

“He’s not your average doctor. Not a physician. He’s more like an inventor-“ At his words, a resounding crash sounded overhead.

Rose blinked twice, and then burst out laughing. That must be the reason for all the funny looks and possibly the kaput clock on the kitchen table. A wacky inventor living upstairs. If that was the only problems the place had, Rose could care less.

Craig and Sophie looked worried, until she finally spoke, amidst fits of giggles.

“You have---no idea---how that---sounds. I’m trying to escape living with my mother. I don’t care if a rock group lives upstairs.”

They looked intensely relieved, and Craig whipped out a sheaf of papers from nowhere,

“That’s wonderful. How soon can you move in?”

Rose beamed at the pair, and took the papers, not even batting an eye at the six month lease,

“This weekend.”


	3. The Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That moment everyone's been waiting for... hehe

Rose’s first week in her new flat went surprisingly well. She never encountered any trouble with her Wi-Fi, despite Sophie warning her it could be spotty.

Perhaps it was only spotty across the hall.

But after the first morning of a shared breakfast with the pair, she realized the truth. Even if they couldn’t see it, they were completely besotted with each other. Sophie pretended her wi-fi was weak in her room so that she could spend more time in the community kitchen, which was also home to Craig’s makeshift office away from the office.

Craig worked most days in a call center, and was on his way to becoming the manager. That’s how he and Sophie had met. She worked there part time, and stayed home the rest of the time working on little bits and bobs of art. She’d shown Rose a couple of her favorite pieces, and seemed surprised when she praised the works.

Rose figured Sophie could even sell a few of them and maybe make that her career, if she wanted of course.

Sophie let her in on a secret, she’d been to art school and even been planning to head to Paris to complete her studies, a semester abroad, but then she’d landed the job at the call center, and she’d decided to stay.

Rose fought back the urge to smile whenever she saw the two of them talking. How they managed to dance around their feelings day in and day out, she’d never know. She knew that it had to be the only reason Sophie was really still there. It certainly wasn’t the call center job.

A love this sweet and innocent was so rare. Rose was almost wishing she had matchmaking skills. She decided to find out when one of their birthdays was, so she could gift them with a dinner out.

***

Eventually Rose had to give up having breakfast with her lovely neighbors, as her work schedule picked up rapidly.

She was out the door faster than they could blink, with only a hurried “Mornin’” called in passing.

Thanks to her probing, with Sophie’s eager help, she’d discovered Craig’s birthday was only a couple weeks away.

While on her lunch break at work, Rose phoned over to her favorite steak house and made a reservation far in advance, including a bottle of fantastic red wine to accompany the meal.

Too busy grinning to herself at her mischievous plans, when arriving back to the apartment, she didn’t even notice how she had unconsciously parked next to the navy VW bus.

She knew it couldn’t be Craig or Sophie’s car, so it must belong to the mysterious Mister Smith. The Doctor who wasn’t a doctor.

Rose had yet to lay her eyes on her upstairs neighbor, but she had already created an image of him in her head.

Flyaway grey hair, with sparkling blue eyes hidden behind low sitting spectacles, she rather thought of him like a strung out Leonardo da Vinci, mixed with a bit of Albert Einstein. At least, that’s how she imagined most inventors looked. Maybe even a dash of Professor Dumbledore, with a long white beard to match the hair.

Rose set the envelope with the card and included gift reservations for the nice dinner on her desk, and quickly set to getting ready for bed.

While she was brushing her teeth, she noticed the lights flickering again overhead. She shook her head and smiled at her reflection. Whatever Mister Smith was getting up to, clearly it was taking a lot of energy.

She fell asleep dreaming of crazy contraptions resembling dark blue colored alarm clocks and strange flying machines.

***

Rose woke up to a loud thump from overhead, and if she’d had the energy, she might have rolled her eyes.

She turned over, and fell back into a light sleep.

What seemed like only seconds later, a rapid thumping noise began to sound, but she ignored it, and pulled her pillow over her eyes, shifting slightly under the covers.

When it continued, she realized it wasn’t still coming from the floor above her, but from her front door. She reluctantly sat up, and looked over at her alarm clock with bleary eyes.

It was hardly six in the morning. Far too early to be awoken on a Saturday morning. She climbed out of bed slowly, and all the while prepared to give Craig or Sophie strong words.

She pulled open her door while the person outside was in mid-knock, and she was promptly bopped on the forehead.

She blinked twice, before her eyes truly started to focus.

She blinked again, just in case she’d imagined things and was still dreaming.

Nope. There really was a half naked man looming outside at her door, and a total stranger at that.

“Hello? Can I help you?”

Rose managed to croak out, her voice sounding for the entire world like a sleepy frog’s. Perhaps she looked like one too.

The man grinned broadly, and nodded emphatically, his rather wet brown floppy hair falling down over his forehead to momentarily block his vision. He brushed it back impatiently and Rose was momentarily captured by the bright green gleam of his eyes.

“Hello! Yes I hope so. Can I borrow your screwdriver? My hot water’s given out, but I think the tap is just loose.”

Rose shrunk away from the crazy man, and not simply because he’d hit her. It had been more of a tap really, but she wasn’t used to seeing half naked men this early in the day. Much less slightly wet, clad-only-in-a-towel men asking her for a screwdriver. It was either a really cheesy pickup line, or he was truly a madman.

“I’m sorry?”

The man glanced over her head around at her room, which wasn’t a difficult feat, given that he was half a head taller than her,

“I know the last lodger left behind a large toolbox. He usually kept it under the bed, but he’d let me borrow things all the time, mind if I have a look?”

The man had already glided by her, not aided because of his dampened state, and was beginning to crawl over to lift up her comforter and attempt to look under _her_ bed when Rose realized what was happening.

“But-but-but—” She spluttered, _‘You’re naked.’_ She wanted to say, but was unsure how to word that without sounding like she’d really been looking. Because she hadn’t. Complete strangers who burst into her apartment did not garner looks. Unless they were half naked towel clad blokes with nice hair, wiry muscles and semi-confusing intentions.

She stood still, somewhat in shock, and watched as the man in only a towel shuffled around on her floor. Said towel was beginning to shift and might have given her an early morning eyeful when the man lurched back, straightened up, holding out what looked like a silver tube with several attachments, including one that resembled a Philips head screwdriver.

“Thanks loads!”

The man called out behind him, having already slipped past her, but suddenly pausing in the doorway,

“By the way, I’m John Smith, or you can call me the Doctor.”

“Okay.” Rose answered in a semi-monotone, still attempting to catch up.

Before she had realized what he had said, he was long gone, with the combination of loud thumping footfalls echoing down the stairs, and the slam of a door waking Rose up completely.

She could only stand in the middle of her own doorway and let her heart rate slow down.

“He’s the Doctor? He’s John Smith? _The_ mysterious John Smith?”

She leaned against the door frame, and let out a sigh. He looked barely old enough to drink, much less be on his own in his own place. How could he afford to just invent all day? What was he inventing that was so noisy? What needed such a massive power drain?

Why was he so attractive?


	4. The Aftermath

There was no sign of the Doctor when Rose headed to breakfast later that day, when the sun had finally risen, and she found herself rather relieved.

She didn’t really know what she would say to him. How did you get around such an awkward meeting? Of course, perhaps it had only been awkward to her. The way he’d acted, one would think he ran around half naked all the time.

Rose found herself blushing as she thought about it. He was quite good looking for someone who stayed holed up in his apartment all the time. When Sophie greeted her, Rose spoke before thinking,

“I met John Smith earlier this morning.”

Sophie looked at her with a sense of caution, and Rose could imagine the things she would ask, but instead she simply sighed,

“Well that’s that. I’m glad you did. I was afraid he might end up drilling through the floor and you’d have to sue Craig for damages. Then he’d have to kick the Doctor out, and it would be such a mess.”

Rose nearly choked on her bagel,

“I’m sorry?”

Sophie winced,

“Well, that only almost happened once. Craig gave him a good talking to, and he doesn’t use any power tools unless he’s working on an elevated surface.”

Rose quickly downed a large gulp of coffee,

“I thought you said he was an inventor. He hardly looks like he’s been to uni.”

Sophie smiled,

“He’s a bit older than he looks, and he’s a genius besides. He went to uni already; he started first year when he was only thirteen. He is an inventor, but nowadays he mostly tinkers. Apparently he’s made enough money to retire outright with his brilliant patents, but instead of buying some large place he’d have to keep up with, he picked us to stay with.”

Rose noticed the way she used ‘us’ and almost wished Craig was around to hear her talk like that.

“But why? Why so secretive? Why do you think he picked this place?”

Sophie shrugged,

“Beats me. He doesn’t talk much. I only found out that stuff by looking him up. I couldn’t help it. I always google new flat mates. Craig says it’s foolish, but I like to know who I live with. Background checks don’t usually have juicy gossip.”

She winked, and Rose smirked,

“What did you find out on me?”’

Sophie suddenly paled,

“Oh not much.”

Rose waved her hand around,

“It’s okay. I’m sure you already know it all. This face is too familiar to hide for long. I suppose I came here looking for the same thing. Low profile. Plus I’ll let you in on a little secret, I like having my own job outside of my dad’s company. I enjoy working for myself, and making money. After the scandal with James, I wanted somewhere quiet, without lots of cameras. Thanks to you and Craig, I got my wish.”

Sophie smiled slowly,

“So you’re okay that I know who you are?”

Rose nodded, she knew eventually they would find out anyway.

“Yeah. The Vitex heiress has landed. But she loves her little flat, and wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Sophie took her hand and squeezed it gently,

“I wouldn’t have known it was you until I did the google search. You always look so different in photos. Maybe it’s because of the lighting or something.”

Rose laughed,

“I usually wear sunglasses, and never smile. So you could blame that on lighting, or the annoying cameras in my face. Either or.”

Sophie nodded understandingly,

“In any case, Craig and I are glad to have you. Personally, I promise to make sure that this place is your home. No cameras allowed.”

Rose felt her eyes stinging,

“You’re too much. You’ll make me cry. I already feel like I need some pills for my headache thanks to sir Doctor.” She laughed quietly, and Sophie looked shocked,

“What did he do?”

Rose shrugged,

“Oh nothing much. He just came to my door asking after a screwdriver at six in the morning.”

Sophie gasped,

“You poor thing! No wonder you have a headache. That boy I swear…”

Rose coughed,

“Boy?”

Sophie rolled her eyes,

“Well you’re perfectly right about his age. He may be twenty-four, but he acts like a teenager sometimes. No manners I swear. It’s like he’s on a different planet. I’ll tell him not to bother you.”

Rose shook her head,

“It’s fine. I think it may be better to just give him the whole toolbox. Apparently the last tenant let him borrow things often, and although he seems nice, I don’t really want a repeat of this morning. I feel that could only be stopped by giving him what he needs.”

Sophie sighed,

“You’d think he had enough tools of destruction and mayhem upstairs already. I’ll ask Craig to take the box up to him whenever you aren’t around. That way we won’t bother you.”

Rose gave her a lopsided grin,

“Do you plan to break and enter my apartment? I could just bring the box to him myself.”

Sophie looked horrified,

“Oh no! Of course not, I would nev-”

Rose laughed,

“I’m kidding. Not about taking the box though. I bet I could carry it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg plz forgive me for neglecting this fic. it's been incredibly frustrating writing wise. i seem to be struggling to write anything decent. new work schedule's are NO bueno.


	5. The Match

As it turned out the next day, Rose could not lift the toolbox. She could barely drag the box out from under her bed. It was incredibly heavy. The only viable means of transporting it could be piece by piece, but Rose hadn’t the patience for that.

She reluctantly made her way over to the kitchen to ask Craig for help.

Before she’d spoken a word, he’d already been speaking.

“Sorry what?”

Craig chuckled and started again,

“I was just asking if you wanted to come to the match this evening. All the blokes on this street get together a couple times a month for a football match. We fancy ourselves in a league.” He chuckled, “Sophie always comes to watch.”

He paused, and Rose internally grinned as she saw his face brighten at the mention of the girl,

“You’d be more than welcome. Actually, I’ll tell you the truth, the Doctor feels bad about how he had to meet you yesterday---”

Craig broke off, before shrugging and continuing, which gave Rose the impression perhaps the good Doctor hadn’t shared _exactly_ how they had met,

“And he hoped you would come.”

Rose’s eyebrows were certainly lost in the heights of her forehead and she considered the invitation. “Alright, I’ll come. But on one condition.”

Craig looked puzzled,

“Okay?”

Rose grinned,

“You’ve got to help me lug this old toolbox up those stairs.”

She jerked her head in the upward direction, and she saw the light dawn over her landlord’s face.

“Of course! I completely forgot about old Wilf’s box. The Doctor was always bothering him for stuff. I’ll be right over to get that out of your way Rose.”

She gave him a mock curtsey,

“No rush. Just knock whenever you come by.”

She couldn’t help but give the upstairs door a curious look as she crossed the hallway back to her room. The door itself was painted dark blue, “Rather similarly to the VW bus,” she thought. Very odd. Maybe he just liked blue.

***

Watching as the Doctor practically tore up the football field, Rose found herself having a good time. She hadn’t expected to enjoy standing on the sidelines of the game quite so much.

After all, growing up, her father Pete had taken her to many a professional game, always with the best seats, and the occasional meet and greet with players.

But Rose decided she liked the more domestic approach. Knowing the key players was more fun when they were neighbors.

When Sophie leapt up and down and cheered for the latest goal, Rose bit back a smile. She wasn’t quite _that_ enthusiastic, but perhaps next time.

 _Next time?_ She was already planning to attend the next match?

She wasn’t sure what had come over her. Surely it wasn’t the way the Doctor looked, running up and down the field, seeming to be bursting with endless energy, or the way his long brown hair flopped down in his eyes once and a while, only to be flipped back and out of the way in a careless motion.

Yet she couldn’t say no when Craig, Sophie, and even the Doctor invited her to tag along to have celebratory chips and drinks with the teams.

Finally sitting down, she ended up sitting across from the Doctor, and despite herself, she grinned at him.

“Great game out there. You are a fantastic football player.”

The Doctor didn’t bother pretending,

“Right impressive I’d say.”

Rose laughed,

“Okay yeah. Impressive for a man who seems like he’s stuck in the past century, and enjoys tinkering.”

The Doctor suddenly sobered,

“Who told you about that?”

Rose cocked her head towards another booth, where Craig and Sophie sat chatting, sharing an enormous basket of chips.

The Doctor sighed heavily,

“Of course! They reveal all my secrets to the newest member of the building and yet give me no information in return. So tell me Rose Tyler, who are you? Besides the current possessor of Wilf’s old toolbox?”

Rose grinned, and shrugged,

“Is that how I am going to be known now? The poor girl stuck with some old man’s tools?”

The Doctor looked as if he was considering it,

“Until I know for certain who you are, then yes.”

Rose plucked a chip from her basket, and chewed thoughtfully,

“Well, all I know is that you enjoy walking around in naught but a towel in the wee hours of the morning. Is that something you do regularly? Should I lock my doors to prevent any more tool borrowing?”

At this, the Doctor blushed, and Rose was seconds from apologizing, when he spoke,

“Now that is not accurate. I had a bit of a mishap, and couldn’t really find anything else to wear in that moment.”

Rose frowned,

“What do you mean?”

The Doctor waved a hand about, nearly knocking over the vinegar bottle,

“I was in the beginnings of a shower, so naturally I hadn’t brought anything with me but a towel, and then to my dismay, I discover the hot side of the tap only yields cold water, so I jumped out. Unfortunately I snagged my foot on the shower curtain, hence the loud BOOM!”

Rose jumped as the Doctor smacked the table for emphasis,

“And then I couldn’t find the right screwdriver in my collection, so I knew I needed one of Wilf’s. His were always a bit more sonic.”

Rose was still trying to catch up to the scene, but somehow had gotten her mind stuck on him entangled in the shower curtain. She almost wished she’d been there to help him up. That must have hurt. She was lucky to have never fallen in her shower, of course, never say never.

“Sonic?”

The Doctor blinked,

“Oh sorry, yes that means interchangeable. With multiple screw heads.”

Rose tilted her head,

“Really? I’ve never heard them called that before.”

The Doctor grinned,

“Yes well, I’ve just made it up myself.”

Rose giggled,

“Oh okay. So you got my, er, Wilf’s ‘sonic screwdriver,’ and then what?”

“Once I fixed the shower tap, I finally got my hot shower, and then was back to work. By the way, I kept the screwdriver. You didn’t need it back did you?”

Rose shook her head, an occasional laugh escaping her,

“Nope. It’s all yours. Please keep it. I’ve asked Craig to help me move the rest of the tool box to your place. That was you won’t have to come chasing after them.”

The Doctor’s eyes went wide,

“Oh right! I’m so sorry. I must have seemed like a complete lunatic.”

Rose smiled gently at him,

“Nonsense. You’re not a lunatic. Has anyone ever told you you’re a bit weird though?”

The Doctor ran a hand through his floppy hair, and it resolutely flopped back into place,

“They never really stop.”

Rose reached over and set her hand on his free one,

“Don’t worry. I’ll tell you a secret, I’m weird too.”

The Doctor looked down at her hand, and she quickly pulled it away,

“I imagine you’re not. But you are a bit of a mystery.”

Rose felt her cheeks heating up,

“Nah. I’m pretty boring. You’re mysterious though. What all are you inventing up there?”

The Doctor tapped his cheek with his index finger,

“Can’t tell you that. I haven’t got a patent yet. I’m not completely an open book, me.”

Rose bit her lip, and narrowed her eyes at him,

“For something you do have patented, tell me what you’ve made.”

The Doctor suddenly swallowed,

“Ever heard of the Banana Daiquiri?”

Rose shrugged,

“I’ve heard of Strawberry ones, so sure.”

The Doctor leaned forward, and whispered conspiratorially,

“I invented that.”

Rose grinned,

“When? You can’t have been drinking long.”

The Doctor leaned back, and looked rather embarrassed,

“I didn’t say I drank it. But I did make it. I’ve been drinking for about four years.”

Rose blinked,

“Well it’s not to say you couldn’t invent a drink without trying it. Why wouldn’t you drink it?”

The Doctor shivered in disgust,

“I hate bananas. At least, I used to love them, when I was at university. Couldn’t live without ‘em. Then I invented the Daiquiri and grew out of them. Now I prefer pears.”

Rose sat back in her seat and simply watched as he went on and on about the different things he’d liked and now disliked from his time at school.

He was definitely a strange one, but she found him utterly fascinating.

They were practically being urged out of the shop by the time Rose looked at her cell phone.

“Goodness.”

The Doctor looked sheepish,

“Sorry about that. I’ve got a bit of a gob, me. Could I offer you a ride home?”

Rose was about to thank him and say she’d simply go with Sophie, when she realized she was nowhere to be found. She must have left ages before with Craig.

“Okay.”


	6. Eavesdropping

Rose arrived home safely, despite a couple mock protests about the Doctor’s ancient automobile. She had not learned much more about the still mysterious upstairs neighbor of hers, but she knew now that he would be a great new friend.

The little voice inside her mind that nudged her and whispered “Maybe more,” she chose to ignore.

The Doctor pulled up in front of the apartment building, and parked the bus, before shutting off the engine and rushing around to open Rose’s door for her.

She was mildly surprised at the act, but she smiled gratefully,

“Thank you. I had a nice time tonight. When’s the next match?”

The Doctor shrugged, as they both walked up to the front door,

“I’m not sure really. I just substitute in when someone’s sick. But I suppose if they need me again they’ll just phone.”

He was halfway up the stairs when a thought occurred to Rose, and she reached out to touch his arm,

“Is it true? What Craig told me?”

The Doctor blinked, and his eyes dropped, studying the floor intently as his hands fidgeted with the collar of his athletic tunic,

“What did Craig say?”

Rose smiled gently,

“He said you wanted me to come to the match. Sort of your way of making amends. Of course, you didn’t really do anything wrong in the first place. So thank you again.”

Rose took a couple steps up the stairs until she was level with the Doctor, and leaned close enough to kiss his cheek. Just a brief peck, but she could have sworn she felt a swarm of butterflies take flight in her stomach from the contact.

She quickly moved back and away, and turned to open her apartment door, but before she’d even selected her key, the Doctor spoke,

“It was true. You’re very welcome Rose Tyler.”

She looked back up at him, astonished, but he was practically running up the stairs, and had vanished behind the dark blue door before she could utter a word.

She shook her head, and inserted her key into the lock, stepping inside the comfort of her home. She had nearly gotten completely ready for bed when she noticed the lone envelop on her desk.

She could have smacked herself on the head. She’d meant to talk to Sophie about it. A quick look at the nearest clock yielded good results, it was still relatively early. At least, early enough to pop across the hall.

Rose snatched up the envelope, slide on her fluffiest house shoes, and pulled on her warmest bath robe.

She strolled across the hallway, and was preparing to knock on Sophie’s door, when she noticed it wasn’t latched properly.

She gently pushed on the door, and it opened all the way,

“Hello? Sophie, are you in there?”

She spoke quietly, not wishing to startle the girl. Suddenly she could hear raised voices, and she realized Sophie was on the phone.

She walked timidly into the girl’s living space, and attempted to get her attention.

“Yes I know, I put the trip on hold, but I’m ready to redeem the ticket. One week from tomorrow… okay. Great, thanks.”

Sophie finally glanced around and although Rose waved and gave her a gentle smile, the girl still jumped.

“I’ll call you back later to finish up the arrangements okay? Bye.”

She hung up swiftly and Rose grimaced,

“Sorry about coming in on you like this, but your front door was open.”

Sophie’s mouth fell open,

“Oh blimey I forgot to latch it. I was in such a hurry to answer the phone; it was ringing off the hook. I knew it had to be important.”

Rose watched as the girl smiled, but something about it seemed strained.

“Is everything okay?”

Sophie nodded,

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be? What’s that you’ve got there?”

She pointed to the red envelop that Rose was clutching, and the blond laughed, some of her curiosity waning, she could see the need for a subject change.

“I just picked it up the other day, for Craig. I figured you could give it to him, as a present from both of us. Sound alright?”

Sophie blinked a couple times, looking lost, before her mouth twitched up in a terrible imitation of a smile,

“Sure. Right.”

Rose eyed her inquiringly,

“Are you going somewhere? I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you know…open doors and things.”

She was preparing to make a joke of it, but out of the blue Sophie’s face crumpled and she began to cry.

Rose set the envelop down, and rushed over to pull the girl into her arms.

“What’s the matter? I’m sorry if it was something I said. Presuming to get just a card for Craig maybe? He does deserve a real gift, and though it doesn’t look like much, I promise the card is more than that.”

Sophie didn’t stop crying for a good minute or two, and she couldn’t get a single word out in between sobs.

When she stopped shaking, and she gave a watery laugh, Rose figured perhaps she was alright.

“It’s not you at all. You’ve been nothing but nice. It’s dumb Craig. I’m so tired of him not understanding. Tired of him living in oblivion. So I’m accepting the study abroad. I’m ready to get out of here, to go to Paris. You were right. I should focus on my art. It’s all I’ve got now anyway.”

Rose stroked her hair gently, and tried to soothe her,

“It’s not your fault. Craig is just like any other bloke. He can’t see what’s right in front of him. But I promise, if you just give him that card, it will set everything right.”

Sophie shook her head, her sobs having turned into hiccups,

“No but you don’t understand! I’m leaving the day before his birthday. I don’t think I could face him anyway. You give him the card, and you tell him I said that I hope he finds what he’s looking for here, because I certainly can’t seem to.”

Rose shushed her and continued to hold her, hoping that she’d see sense by the morning.

She wasn’t one to judge, but somehow she didn’t think running away from the problem, namely being in love, would solve anything.

It was a wonderful opportunity, so Rose couldn’t fault her for that. But why on earth couldn’t Craig go along with her? He could probably use a vacation just as badly.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, when Rose walked into the kitchen, she didn’t know what to expect. When she found the Doctor sitting at the table slowly drinking tea from a china cup, and Sophie standing and looking out the window, she almost made a smart remark.

The Doctor, whom she had never seen in truly normal clothing, was wearing a dark amethyst, almost eggplant purple tweed coat, and though she couldn’t see the rest of him, she assumed he was wearing equally professorial trousers.

“Good morning all.”

She managed a calm and even tone, and Sophie looked around at her, giving a warm smile.

The Doctor nearly choked on his tea and coughed out a greeting, as Rose slipped past him to pour herself a cup of coffee, she whispered,

“Nice bow tie.”

He’d forgone a necktie in favor of a satin maroon bowtie, and it looked unique on him. Sophie walked over and grasped Rose by the elbow, before nodding towards the hallway.

“I need to talk to you.”

She looked excited and almost giddy with happiness, so Rose took that as a good sign, and she set her coffee mug down on the table just across from the Doctor, assuring him she would return for it shortly. She didn’t know if he’d even heard her, given the reaction of utter silence.

Once they’d gotten a few steps out in the hallway, Rose grinned at Sophie,

“Spill!”

The girl blushed,

“Well, I did what you said. I gave Craig the card, though it’s early. When he saw it, and asked me if I could come with him, tonight to dinner, I said yes. Only if we could call it a date though.”

Rose pressed her lips together to keep from squealing aloud.

“That’s wonderful! I’m so glad you did. When will you tell him about Paris?”

Sophie swallowed nervously,

“Well, I was thinking I would tell him tonight…and ask if he could take off to come with me. Even if it’s just for a week.”

Rose was astonished at how well things had turned out. But her thoughts followed the conclusion, if the landlord was leaving, who would be left to take care of the building in his absence?

Sophie seemed to be capable of reading minds.

“I was hoping you and the Doctor could hold the fort down. I’m sure Craig will agree. He’s got a list of the usual things to do. Obviously he could give you guys a break on the rent while he’s gone. Unless for some reason he decides to make it permanent, in which case he’d need to sell the whole place…”

Rose laughed, but it was rather forced,

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

The truth was, Rose had grown rather fond of her little flat, and the idea of having to start all over again did not appeal to her.

Rose managed a strained smile for Sophie, because she did indeed like the idea that things would be progressing for their landlord and her.

“I think my coffee is probably cold by now…” Rose trailed off, and Sophie gasped,

“Oh my, yes I’m sorry. I’ve kept you from your breakfast. Forgive me.”

Rose patted her shoulder,

“It’s okay. We should talk more later.”

Sophie nodded rapidly,

“Oh yes. Enjoy your coffee!”

She gave Rose’s hand a squeeze and then disappeared into her apartment.

Rose returned to the kitchen to find The Doctor extracting her mug from the microwave. She coughed, just barely enough to be heard, and he jumped. Miraculously, he managed to avoid getting any hot coffee on himself.

“Oh sorry.”

His face was completely open, and he looked almost guilty.

“I didn’t know how long you would be gone so I warmed it for you.”

Rose laughed,

“I didn’t know how long I would be gone either, so thank you.”

She sat down, and eagerly wrapped her hands around the steaming mug. The Doctor slinked back into his seat and picked his paper back up, pretending to read. At least, that’s what Rose liked to think.

She guessed perhaps he was nervous, and indeed she could hear the unnecessary rustle of the paper, pages turning far faster than he could possibly have read them.

“Has that one got the comics in it?”

She asked innocently, and a loud rustle sounded, and the Doctor lowered the pages just slightly so he could peer over top at her. She couldn’t see his mouth, but she imagined he was licking his lips nervously. She’d noticed him do it quite often the night before.

“Er, well no. This is the business section. I believe the comics are over there.”

He glanced pointedly to the side of the table where she sat, and she saw a neatly folded bit of newsprint sitting.

“Ah. Well thanks anyway.”

The Doctor coughed and shrugged,

“Not a problem.”

He vanished behind the business section, the title of which she had easily read. She had simply been trying to start conversation, but it appeared that beyond re-heating her coffee for her, he wasn’t a morning person.

***

Before Craig and Sophie could depart on their Parisian adventure, Rose reminded him about the toolbox in her room.

His eyes lit up and he shrugged easily,

“Of course! I’ll be able to move that for you, no sweat.”

It seemed, with the revelation that Sophie loved him, as much as he loved her, Craig felt he could take on the world.

However, there was a remarkable amount of sweating that occurred despite his massive confidence. Rose watched, half amused, half concerned as Craig lugged the box up the stairs, and finally stopped in front of the Doctor’s door, panting and heaving like he’d run a mile in thirty seconds. All uphill.

Rose didn’t bother reminding him she had offered to help when she’d seen him struggling on the first step.

Craig knocked weakly on the door, and when it opened, both he and Rose were rewarded by the sight of the Doctor, looking a bit frazzled.

“Yes?”

Craig gestured wordlessly at the ground, where the heavy toolbox sat, and the Doctor’s face lit up like it was Christmas.

“Oh blimey! Wonderful. You are wonderful.”

He flung open the door and pulled Craig into a tight hug, for which Rose wasn’t planning on mounting a rescue.

When Craig finally escaped the Doctor’s flailing limbs, he had gained his voice back.

“I hope you find some use for it. Promise you won’t bother Rose about anything else Wilf might have left behind alright?”

The Doctor glanced down the stairs at Rose, who stood leaning against the railing, and his expression changed slightly,

“Of course. Thanks again Craig. You’re a lifesaver.”

With stunning ease and strength, the Doctor nudged the toolbox inside his room, with one foot, before closing the door.

Craig, although he’d received warm thanks, felt rather put out.

“I will never understand that bloke.”

He muttered, taking the steps two at a time, before heading directly for the kitchen. Rose had heard him, and couldn’t agree more.


	8. Chapter 8

The usual amount of noise from upstairs had become remarkably sparse in the last week since Sophie and Craig had left. Rose found herself sitting alone in the kitchen every morning, and before she knew it, during her late nights, when she couldn’t sleep, she’d completed the list Craig had left for her. A checklist that usually took a month, and she’d blown through it in barely six days.

She hated to admit it, but she missed the Doctor. She almost hoped she’d find something from Wilf that he might need when she did her spring cleaning in her room.

But alas, it seemed the toolbox had been the only thing left behind of the Doctor’s interest.

Rose was so starved for company; she almost went out for drinks with some co-workers after she finished her work early Friday evening.

The moment she’d stepped outside the building, intent on hailing a cab to head to the nearby bar, she felt a wave of depression wash over her. She didn’t want to spend the next few hours pretending to have a good time, when the only person she really wanted to see was avoiding her.

So instead, she simply walked back to the parking garage, and drove herself home. She didn’t bother turning the radio on, for all she heard those days were sappy love songs, or boring voices of talk radio. Neither appealed to her. She prayed to whoever might be listening that there would be something edible in the freezer when she reached the kitchen, and whoever had been listening granted her prayer.

A shrink wrapped box, containing a meal of chicken egg rolls for one lay in the very back, covered with frost. Rose winced as she knocked off the chunks of ice, before cutting off the plastic and setting it gingerly in the microwave.

“Here’s hoping it doesn’t taste like its paper box.”

“You eat frozen dinners now?”

Rose jumped, and looked around to see the Doctor watching from the kitchen doorway, an amused smile working its way across his face.

Rose tried to look calm, but failed. She felt butterflies take up roost in her lower abdomen, and she tried to keep from voicing the first thoughts in her mind. She knew he was exhausted after a long day at work, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d say something she might regret. But then she only felt frustrated with him, did she really need to explain herself?

She voiced her thoughts, finishing off with a harsh rebuke,

“Since when do you care?”

Suddenly it was too late to take the words back, and she cringed as she awaited his reaction.

The Doctor blinked rapidly, and his fingers began playing with one side of his bowtie.

“I didn’t mean to insult you. I just thought you liked real cooking. I mean, in all the weeks you’ve been here, I’ve never seen you even have takeout.”

Rose rolled her eyes, and turned her back on him.

“I suppose you forgot the chips and drinks after the match two weeks ago.” She snapped, ‘And the conversations we had.’ She added silently.

The Doctor had shrunk back at her statement, but as the microwave beeped, announcing her meal’s completion, he moved back towards her.

“Rose, please let me explain. I’ve been working on this thing, which needed parts, and refinements I could only do with the toolbox’s aid. I haven’t meant to ignore you.”

Rose winced as she pulled out the egg rolls, inside the container the emerging steam was just that, hot and dangerous.

“Oh yeah? You could have fooled me. The only real chance to see you I have this month is when I come to collect your rent.”

The Doctor laughed softly,

“You don’t actually have to do anything. I’ve got retro pay, it’s an automatic deposit.”

Rose smiled tightly,

“Oh, well, that’s brilliant.” After grabbing a chilled bottle of water and retrieving a fork, she stepped around him and headed for the door,

“If you’ll excuse me…”

“Wait. Please don’t run away from me.”

The Doctor almost sounded as if he was in pain, and Rose sighed before turning around,

“I’m not. I’m hungry, I’m tired, and frankly, not in the mood for this upcoming storm.”

The Doctor’s eyebrows merged together, and he ran a hand through his floppy hair,

“I’m sorry?”

“Yep. Good. That’s a start. But I mean the emotional thing. I’m not ready for that. I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast. Then we can talk.”

With that, Rose was gone.

The Doctor was left staring after her, feeling more lost than ever.

***

The Doctor made himself a couple pieces of toast, and fried up an egg. Several of the limited things he could actually cook without burning down the whole place. He sat in contemplative silence, munching away as he pondered Rose’s recent change in mood.

He’d originally thought very little about the yellow and pink lady of flat B. Now he was realizing how rude he might have been. Alright, definitely _had_ been. However, when it came to experience with women, he had just about as much as the absent landlord.

He’d never really noticed girls, he’d always been rather taken with machinery, figuring out how things worked, then pulling them apart and making them better.

He’d always called his lovely vw bus ‘sexy,’ and everyone else around him classified it as junk. Perhaps that’s why most people didn’t register on his radar.

But that morning, so many weeks before, when he’d had to make a rushed acquaintance with Miss Tyler, it seemed he’d put himself on _her_ radar, and not in a good way.

He’d gone over the exact events, and rushed to rectify things by urging Craig to see that she came to the football match.

The evening had gone spectacularly well, beyond his wildest imaginings. But instead of doing the natural thing, i.e. inviting Rose up to see his latest object of tinkering, he’d let her go, and not spoken a word once she’d kissed him.

Only a swift peck on the cheek of course, but still a kiss.

The Doctor had been unable to focus on his work for the next few hours, and thus been severely lacking in sleep when he’d made an appearance at breakfast.

He’d not meant to seem so standoffish to Rose, but the truth was, he was slightly agitated with her, though she’d only been the indirect cause to his insomnia.

Forgoing conversation, he’d read the newspaper until his vision blurred, and he was sure she had left. Then he retreated to his room to resume working.

Without Sophie and Craig distracting him, whether with unneeded chatter or the talk of the upcoming football rematch, the Doctor could slip back into his tinkering.

Thanks to Rose, he now had the entire toolbox of Wilf at his disposal.

He saw no obvious reason to leave his room for the next week.

Alas, to his unusual mind, he had not recognized how that made Rose feel. So when she had unleashed a rare bit of frustration with him earlier, he’d been bewildered at first, and then the puzzle pieces had fallen into place.

He did owe her an apology. But what else? What did women like?

The usual things, chocolates, flowers, or even sonnets came to mind easily. But the Doctor had the slight foresight to guess Rose wasn’t the typical woman.

She had clearly had as much of a fantastic time with simply chips and on tap beer as he had. His usually fast fingers ceased the moment he accidentally bit one, for he had finished off his toast without even noticing.

He shook his hand out, while his thoughts whirled around a thousand miles a minute, trying to put together a plan to win Rose’s good favor back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long absence on this fic...:/


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chap! T was prolly pushing it for the chap so i changed the rating.

Rose knew she’d been overly short with the Doctor. But the things she’d wanted to say, she’d been much too afraid to. He made her feel so strange, he was just a young man, yet she felt nervous, like she was trying to find someone to ask to a dance.

She wanted to finally move on, and start something fresh with someone. She was sick and tired of feeling alone, and she despised how he made her feel when he’d been avoiding her. As if something about him, and only him, could make her better. But it was true. He made her better, and she obviously had some sort of effect on him.

Perhaps the real reason Sophie and Craig had wanted to escape was so that Rose could bring the Doctor out of his shell.

When Rose stepped into her morning shower, she shrieked at the cold water, as she always did. Then she suddenly was struck with an idea. She didn’t turn the tap, and didn’t change it to hot water. She turned it off, and wrapped herself in a towel, before stepping carefully outside the shower.

She patted her hair off, so that it wasn’t dripping wet and getting water everywhere, and slowly crept outside her flat, and began to climb the stairs.

The idea was either madness or brilliance, but either way, Rose knew it was the thing to do.

She finally reached the Doctor’s door, and raised her hand to knock. A thousand thoughts swirled through her mind as her hand froze in the air, and she squeezed her eyes shut, clearing her head.

“I can do this.” She whispered to herself, and her hand twitched forward, rapping hard on the blue door.

***

The Doctor was ripped out of his thoughts and he paused with his hands in midair over his latest creation as he heard a tapping on his front door.

Who could it be at this hour?

He’d had a sort of argument with Rose over the rent payment, so surely she wasn’t coming to try and rehash it?

Although he’d felt the need to apologize just as much, he still hadn’t figured out a good way to do it.

He took a couple strides over to the door, before wrenching it open.

He was greeted with the most incredible sight.

Rose Tyler, clad only in a towel, practically soaking wet, and smiling nervously up at him.

“Hello.”

He opened and closed his eyes a couple times, and even reached over to pinch himself. It was truly happening.

“Hello?”

It came out a question, for he was quite unsure what exactly was going on. He drank in her appearance, golden blond hair darkened by water to a warm brown, and cheeks flushed by the exertion of climbing the staircase. Though he fought with himself, he couldn’t keep his eyes from drifting further down, to confirm the pink blush spread all the way over her neck and chest, and thankfully her towel blocked his view of more perfect skin. He was only wearing his favorite worn black lounge pants, and luckily they were loose enough to hide any reaction to his ogling of her body.

“Hi. I was wondering if you knew how to work a screwdriver? I’ve lent mine out, and something seems to be the matter with my hot water. I’d hate to bother a plumber at this hour.”

The Doctor felt laughter bubbling up his throat, and he nearly choked on it in his haste to reply,

“Yes, yes of course. I have just the thing. Wait here one moment.”

He almost ran for his bathroom, where he’d put the toolbox, and left Rose Tyler standing in his front doorway.

***

Rose knew she surely was bright red with embarrassment. The entire daft plan of hers had gone rather well, until she’d seen how the Doctor looked at her, and she’d realized just how little the towel really covered.

Perhaps it was only fair.

He’d run off like a bat out of hell, presumably to retrieve his ‘sonic screwdriver’ and she was left alone. He had been wearing only sleep pants, and she smiled to herself as she recalled the seemingly permanently ingrained image of his shirtless chest. A most enjoyable sight. She stepped forward cautiously, and moved to observe the bewildering contraption sitting on his bed. How on earth did he get any sleep with that object in the way? It wasn’t a small thing one could push aside, or place on a desk. Come to think of it, the Doctor seemed to have only one flat surface in his room, and that was his bed.

What had Sophie said about elevated surfaces? Had the Doctor been drilling into and on his mattress?

All these questions and more flew from her mind as the Doctor emerged from his bathroom, sonic screwdriver clutched victoriously in his hand, and an optimistic look on his charming face.

“Shall we?”

He glanced at her, and she noticed how his eyes slipped down to look her over completely again, and she would have tried to make a witty remark, if she’d not been dead set on finishing her plan.

“I think I might simply finish in your shower. It’s all fixed now, isn’t it?”

Licking her lips, Rose walked towards him, making certain he was watching her every move, (for how could he not?) as she walked past, dropping the towel as she went, and grinning cheekily at him as she closed his bathroom door behind her.

Now all she had to do was wait. If he followed, she’d been successful. If he didn’t, then she would simply retreat with as much dignity as she had remaining.

It didn’t take him long to figure it out.

She heard no audible clunk as the screwdriver fell from his hands, but she imagined it well enough as the door swung open, and he was at her side in a heartbeat.

“It works perfectly. But something tells me you didn’t actually come up here for that. Rose Tyler, you drive me crazy. I’m going to kiss you now.”

Rose had only a moment to congratulate herself on such a bold plan, before she felt his hands tracing up her bare hips and stopping to rest on the curve of her waist, as he leaned down to press his mouth against hers.

Her eyes fell shut and she might have hummed in triumph, or simply at the sensation of it all. His hair flopped down over his forehead, and tickled against her skin, as she pressed into him, her own hands finding their way around his neck and her fingers teased the hairs on the nape.

He pulled back only briefly, and she grinned lazily at him,

“Everything alright?”

“Oh yes. More than. Should I…” He broke off, unsure, but her hands easily moved to stroke over his bare chest, and when she braced herself on his shoulders, leaping to wrap her legs around his waist, he slipping his hands down just in time to catch her.

He groaned as she shifted her hips, her bare skin coming in contact with his, only covered by a thin layer of fabric.

“Perhaps we should move somewhere more stable…”

Not that Rose was about to object to shower sex, but she was afraid his strength might give out, as most men’s did, just during the most important moment.

However, they’d both forgotten about the Doctor’s project, which monopolized most of his bed, and indeed the room itself. The Doctor, who’d been placing frantic kisses along Rose’s collarbone ceased immediately, to her great displeasure. She could still feel the spot where his lips had been against her skin tingling, and she didn’t even bother to hide her disappointment at losing the contact.

The enormous science experiment put a bit of a damper on things, and the Doctor reluctantly let Rose back down. She coughed awkwardly, and bent over to pick her towel up, deftly wrapping it and tucking it around herself.

The Doctor grimaced,

“I’m sorry. Another time maybe?”

Rose fought back a laugh,

“Oh no you don’t. Your invention won’t save you. We’re just going to have to christen the kitchen.”

The way the Doctor’s eyes widened was too much for Rose, and she giggled, before grabbing his hand,

“Last one down is a rotten egg!”

***

When Sophie and Craig finally returned to the building, after nearly a month in the city of lights, they could hardly be blamed for the shock they received to find the Doctor and Rose in medias res of coupling in the living room.

The ‘Stronger Wi-Fi in here’ excuse didn’t work _that_ time, to say the least.

The day after Rose’s lease expired, she and the Doctor moved in to a two story loft, in a luxury apartment complex down the road.

Craig had decided to sell the red brick building after all, so he was glad to hear the two had gotten settled elsewhere.

However, when he and Sophie received a postcard from London, where the Doctor and Rose had celebrated their first anniversary, with chips, he remembered he needed to buy a bigger fridge. For with all the places he and Sophie had been, their little compact model was becoming extremely crowded.

So for the two most unlikely flat mates, it had been a bumpy ride to happy ever after, and for Craig and Sophie, the two friends who’d been ‘much more’ for longer than they could have both imagined, all it had taken was a little push.

Rose Tyler and John Smith complimented each other in many ways, but Rose never really became quite as eccentric as he.

At least, she’d never admit to it. Late night tinkering was only for the geniuses. She preferred to take care of the occasional insomnia of the genius.

***

**END**

 


End file.
